


Young Dumb & Broke

by screaminghere



Category: IT (2017)
Genre: M/M, Mutual Pining, Pining, Shotgunning, Stoner Richie Tozier, Teenage reddie
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-24
Updated: 2018-03-24
Packaged: 2019-04-07 12:50:14
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,411
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14081304
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/screaminghere/pseuds/screaminghere
Summary: “Would you get high with me?”“Rich, what the fuck.”





	Young Dumb & Broke

**Author's Note:**

> song: https://m.youtube.com/watch?v=IPfJnp1guPc

“Would you get high with me?”

“Rich, what the fuck.”

“It’d be fun, though.”

Eddie rolls his eyes. Richie scoots up next to him.

“Please?” Richie blinks his eyes comically fast with a too-wide grin taking over his face.

Eddie rolls his eyes again and accentuates it with a long sigh and crossing his arms. He’s only giving Richie a hard time. He’s more curious than he lets on. It’d be nice to be high, he’s had enough lows.

Eddie gives Richie a small smile. “Fine.”

Richie throws his fist into the air. “Yes! You won’t regret this, Eds.” 

Richie goes back to eating his lunch (a piece of bread with condiments from the toppings bar, including, but not limited to, pickles, mustard, ketchup, and saltine crackers) and talking about a crazy dream he had as though nothing had happened. (Richie only ends up eating about two bites of the “sandwich”, and Eddie silently slips him a package of cookies. Richie opens them and smiles at him.)

After school, Eddie walks home with Richie. Richie, who’s wearing the worst combination of colors and patterns yet still, somehow, makes it work. Richie, who loves to talk about how cool he is and then will cry at a commercial involving a baby animal. Richie, with his curly hair and bright eyes. 

Richie, the guy who Eddie agreed to get high with. 

Richie’s walls are covered with posters, every inch concealed by some type of band or old school arcade game. His bed is unmade, but it looks like the sheets were washed recently, with multiple pairs of shoes peeking out from underneath the bed frame. Clothes are strewn about the room, but not so badly that Eddie can’t walk around them. The most outlandish thing, however, is that there is an entire stop sign in the corner of Richie’s room, an honest-to-god stop sign, one that had been uprooted and stolen.

Richie notices his staring and shrugs. “It was a dare. I had’ta show Marsh that I’m tough shit.”

Eddie snorts. “‘Course you are.”

Richie’s mouth drops open dramatically. “I’ll have you know that I’m the toughest shit that you’ll ever meet.” Richie turns to root through a drawer in his dresser.

“You’re also the biggest shit.”

“While that was hurtful, it’s also an achievement, and I’ll take it.”

Eddie flops down onto Richie’s bed, a lazy smile spreading over his face. “You’re an idiot.”

“Am I the biggest idiot?” Richie looks over his shoulder with a grin from where he’s searching through his clothes.

Eddie laughs. “Shut up.”

“Make me, Edward Spagedward.”

“Fuck y-“

“Aha!” Richie turns around, holding a pre-rolled blunt.

Richie plops down next to Eddie, who’s suddenly feeling apprehensive. Sitting up, Richie pulls a lighter from his bedside stand and fumbles to light it. They sit on the edge of the bed.

“Here, lemme…” Eddie takes the lighter and flicks it into life on the first try, holding it to the end of the blunt for a few seconds. Richie smiles at him, for the second time that day.

Richie inhales and then lets his hand down, blowing smoke into the air as he breathes out. It smells fucking terrible. “You’re good with lighters, Eds, you ever smoke?” 

Eddie shakes his head, he owns a lot of candles. Richie gives him this devilish grin.

“Wanna try?” 

Hesitantly, Eddie takes the blunt from Richie’s hand and slots it between his lips, breathing in too fast and out too slow. With a couple coughs he passes it back to Richie, who expertly takes another long drag before cooly blowing out the smoke.

Eddie can feel it immediately going to his head, like the world around him suddenly got softer and warmer and his body parts are a little more separate. Except, now his throat kinda hurts.

“Wanna shotgun?”

“Are you offering me a gun? Do you normally gives away guns when you’re high?”

Richie laughs, it sounds like a sunset and the smell of a campfire.

“No, I mean, I could just blow the smoke directly into your mouth, then you won’t cough as much.”

Eddie’s face burns. Maybe it’s that he’s already taken a hit, maybe it’s because Richie has been smiling a lot today, maybe it’s because it’s a fucking full moon outside, but Eddie just says, “Yeah, sure.”

Something in Richie’s eyes makes his heart stutter.

Richie takes a quick drag, then grasps at Eddie’s jaw, leaning in and pressing their lips together, not kissing, just getting Eddie to open his mouth enough to blow smoke through.

Eddie can feel his head spinning and he doesn’t think it’s because of the weed. His vision is centering on only one thing, Richie, and he can only feel one thing, where Richie’s cold ass hand is holding his face in place. 

Richie’s hand doesn’t move as Richie turns to the side to take another puff and press their mouths together again. Richie’s breath smells faintly like the cookies he ate earlier and his shampoo smells like coconut.

Once more, Richie separates their mouths, and Eddie remembers that they are both sitting in Richie’s room, on Richie’s bed. Richie must’ve already taken another drag, because he pulls Eddie’s face back to his own again, and Eddie inhales more smoke that smolders in his lungs. 

There’s a noise that breaks the almost silence of the quiet Nirvana playing in the background, like a whimper, or a gasp, so small that only the two of them could ever hear it. It takes Eddie a while to realize that he’s the one who made the noise. Richie’s breath is hot against his mouth.

“Oh, fuck it.” Richie extinguishes the blunt on an ash tray on his bedside table before grabbing Eddie’s face with his other hand and kissing him, sweet and slow. Eddie moves his mouth in tangent, making the most out of it considering how chapped Richie’s lips are. 

Richie pulls his mouth away, his hand still cradling the side of Eddie’s face. 

“Eds… uh, I’m… I didn’t…” Richie continues to trail off, unable to finish a sentence while his eyes scan over Eddie’s face, searching for any answers. Richie drops his hand, fast, like it was touched by a ghost. Eddie’s face is cold where Richie’s hand was.

Eddie takes the blunt from the side table and holds it lightly between his teeth, lighting it with the lighter that he had been clutching in his hand this whole time. He takes a drag, this time with considerably less coughing.

Richie is staring at him with his mouth parted and looking more confused than Eddie has ever seen him. It feels nice to not be the only one that’s floundering for once in his life, it almost makes him confident. Richie has not leaned out of his personal space.

Eddie breathes in more smoke and presses their mouths together again. Richie’s eyes shut and his mouth compliantly opens, breathing in. Richie’s hand finds its way back to Eddie’s face, holding him like he’s an easily frightened creature, as if he hadn’t just made the boldest move of his life. Their foreheads rest together as Richie exhales, smoke and feverish breath dissipating between them.

Richie’s hand is frigid and his breath is febrile, sweltering, and his lips are so close. Eddie waits.

Richie kisses him, fiery and anxious, his hand is searing like too-cold water where it meets Eddie’s skin. Eddie presses closer, reaches for Richie’s face with nervous hands, kisses him again. In response, Richie shifts to rest his hands on Eddie’s hips, bites on Eddie’s lower lip. Eddie gasps into Richie’s mouth and then-

“Shit!” 

“Wh-“

“There’s gonna be a fucking house fire!” Eddie picks up the joint from where he let it fall to the floor and extinguishes it in Richie’s ash tray.

Eddie turns to look at Richie. Richie stares back, his hair pressed down in odd places and his lips shining. 

“Uh-“

“I love you.”

Richie stares for half a second longer before his face collapses into the biggest smile he’s ever seen.

“Okay, good.” Eddie isn’t sure how to respond to that. “Um, I mean, it’s good that you love me, because I love you, a lot. I’m in love with you. You’re a good kisser. Like, a really good kisser. Tell me to shut up.”

Eddie laughs (practically giggles) and closes the distance between them. He drapes his arms over Richie’s shoulders.

“Idiot.” 

Eddie kisses him again.


End file.
